Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1887-03-23
CHAPTER XII.

The young mane hurries forward-for-
getful of Mrs. Brand, etiquette, common
politeness, everytaing-to where MILL
cent. is standing. His face is pale, his
eyes brilliant. He is evidently suffering
from intense excitement.
"Miss Grey! what terrible thing Is this
I have heard? But you are well-safe?"
He is holding her hand tightly clasped
in both his, and is gazing into her rather
pink face with an eager love and solicit
tude not to be misunderstood. He is as
oblivious to Capt. Boyle's sneering laugh
as to Mrs. Brands glance of surprised
displeasure, and is, indeed, deaf and
blind to everything but Millicent herself.
She has been in such sore danger; but
now she is here, before him, we'll, beau
iful as ever.
"Quitc safe, as you scc," says Mill
cent, in low, soft tunc-the softest she
has ever used to him. She cannot but
contrast the tender vehemence of his ad-
dress with the cool, unimpassioned greet
ing accorded to her by Grant, an hour be-
fore. "You must not think of me any
longer as deserving Of your pity. And
have you forgotten auntie?'
Is there the faintest pressure of her
cool little hand as she brings him thus
back to a sense of his dGty?
Chow dye do, Mr.. Massareene" says
Mrs. Brand, slight touch of asperity IN
her tone.
There is something about this big,
ugly young Irishman, with his musical
brogue, and his wonderful eyes, and his
impetuosity, that labels him dangerous.
II beg your pardon" he eXclaims now,
sliding across the room and clasping Mrs.
Brands jeweled hand in a grasp warm
as though lie considered himself her
prime favorite, rather than u bette noir.
The grasp, however, as she does not fall
to remark, though warm, Is gentle in
the extreme, and docs not force the rings
against the delicate skin. After all-yes
there are some commenduble points
about this young, ineligible man. II
have been unpardonably rude" goes on
the ugly detrimental. But you will
forgive me, Mrs. Brand, when I assure
you that I didn't know whether was
standing on my head OF my heels when
I entered the room. / never got such a
shock in my life as Brandon gave me in
the Junior quarter of an hour ago"
"You were on your heels. That can
prove to you," says Mrs. Brand, smiling;
she is too good natured not to be half
amused, half touched by the young mans
evident concern.
"I am Witness" puts in Grant,, show
ing all his teeth again. "You were quite
in proper trim, my dear fellow! Not
suspicion of intoxication about you"
This laugh is replete with insolence.
In fact, the remark just made has refer
ence to a subject that has grown sore
from rough handling. 1t has reference
to little scene in the early town life of
Gerald Massareene, who one evening,
going little off his head after the ter
mination.' .'of.a triumphant Derby day, took
perhaps little more champagne than
was good for him. Some-his friends
said it was only his usual excellent
spirits raised to an excited pitch because
of his having made a good thing off the
winner. Others-his acquaintance (he
had no enemies, good lad that he was)-
said it was the excellent spirits of the
club cellar. However it was, Massareene
went considerably beyond bounds, and
was in the morning thoroughly ashamed
of himself. Then came his introduction
to Millicent Grey-almost a little girl at
that time, but old enough to inthrall and
hold him with her budding beauty. And
with his growing love for her grew his
fear that this one episode (vulgar epi-
sode, he called it) should be made known
to her. 1t was All absurd fear, of course,
and arose more from an apprehension
that she would regard him with disgust
than from any very moral regret for his
misconduct; but, be that us it may, Grant
Boyle knew of his nervous horror of its
being known-and, for the matter of that,
50 did Millicent, who had heard of the
little affair long time ago, and had
laughed good deal ut several of the
smaller details concerning it. Indeed, it
had been u very innocent offense from
first to last.
At Grants words Massareene's face
flames, and u sudden fire brightens his
eyes. At the moment it is easy to see
that there is little love lost between the
two men.
"You mean" says Massareene, little
sharply, taking step forward.
"Just what I said, dear boy-that you
were enlinently sober. Could l have
borne higher testimony to your charac-
ter? Miss Grey-us you seem to have some
doubts about the accuracy of my state